Me and the Bomb
It says something about the earnest networking of the Davos elite that not even a explosive blast (a feeble one, it must be said) can shake their routine.
I was in the Morosani Post Hotel on Thursday morning a little after 9, checking my e-mail and filching a breakfast roll from the dining room, when I heard a loud rumble, followed by reverberating rattle.
Nobody nearby said a word at first, but after a few seconds a gentleman nearby said: "What was that?"
"Don't know," said another.
"Sounded like a bomb."
Someone else muttered what sounded like a dubious dissent.
Nobody around me moved. People went back to sending e-mails or reading their newspapers. I took my purloined breakfast roll and headed outside.
Indeed, it was only many hours later when I went online to read the news that I saw the headline: "Swiss police: Blast at Davos hotel; no injuries."
No injuries? There wasn't so much as a jostle or a wince, where I was standing in the lobby. "Responsibility," if that's the right word, was claimed by an unknown group using the Web address indymedia.ch. Police said it was caused by fireworks. Even the explosions at Davos are subdued.
David Ignatius is a twice-weekly columnist for The Washington Post, writing on global politics, economics and international affairs.